


All in Pieces

by SuperImposed



Series: Kinkfills: Noncon Edition [11]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Copulation Sheaths, Hurt/Comfort, Kinkfill, M/M, Multi, Multiple Personas, Non-Consensual, Violence, With Emphasis on Hurt, Xeno, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/SuperImposed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things come to life in the dreambubbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Face to face to face

**Author's Note:**

> A series of fic based on several prompts.
> 
> http://homesmut.livejournal.com/4645.html?thread=1810725#t1810725
> 
> "i don't care how it happens, but gamzee winds up face-to-face with his two evil personalities, who decide to make him pay for keeping them trapped in his head for so long.
> 
> anon feels bad for requesting this, but i need it like burning."

Honk.  
  
Gamzee blinked blearily and looked up. That sounded like one of his horns. He looked around – nope, Terezi was nowhere near the horn pile. In fact, no one was. The room was empty.  
  
The troll stoner vaguely reflected on this. Before he could get anywhere, though, a rough – familiar? – hand grabbed his upper arm and yanked him back.  
  
The good-natured troll sprawled awkwardly on the floor, raising the free arm to shield himself.  
  
For once in his life his eyes widened, as he came face-to-face….to-face?  
With himself.  
  
“Whoa,” he mumbled, trying to sit up. “think I had too much motherfuckin pi-”  
  
A sharp backhand caught him off-guard, and he tumbled head over heels, braked by the husktop desk. Before he could fully react, another one roughly grabbed his shirt, pulling him nose-to-nose with a slasher-smiling version of himself.  
  
“What-”  
“SHUT UP MOTHER FUCKER, I’M GONNA ”  
“rip yer fucking head off,” finished the second counterpart, in an eerily emotionless tone. Gamzee blinked, trying to clear his head.  
  
“I don’t….think I like you brothers. I get the motherfucking feeling yer gonna hurt somebody.”  
  
The one grabbing him laughed harsh and loud. “OH, YER DEAD MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT BOUT THAT ONE, BROTHER!” He leaned in closer, pressing grease-painted foreheads together as the third self slid closer. “YOU ARE.”

Gamzee’s brain was rotted under the influence of corrosive pie, but even he knew something was seriously wrong here. He grabbed his loud self’s wrist, frowning as the bones cracked. The manic doppelganger’s smile didn’t change a hair.  
  
“I’m not gonna get motherfucking pushed around by a motherfucking bozo with my motherfucking face,” he mumbled, pushing the mirror image away as he stood.  
  
The quiet one’s hand snapped out and grabbed the extended wrist, as the loud one reached his spare limb around and caught Gamzee’s remaining arm. “did we say you had a” “MOTHERFUCKING CHOICE?!”  
  
Both of them grasped their mellow counterpart’s neck and forced him to his knees. Gamzee’s eyes widened, the full gravity of the situation becoming clearer. He actually struggled, trying to push them off, but how do you fight two of you? Especially when both are far more ruthless and bloodthirsty than your normal self.  
  
The loud one slapped him open-handed, the sound weirdly muffled in the empty room. His head snapped to the side, hanging loosely from the dazing blow. It took him a second to realize that the quiet one was getting busy with his pants.  
  
A shot of ice flashed its way down Gamzee’s arteries. Fear. He didn’t think he’d ever actually felt it before.  
  
“N-now, hold on a m-” the loud one slapped him again, then re-grabbed his shirt and pulled the scared clown close. The quiet one noiselessly rose from his position, and easily switched out. He pressed his forehead gently against Gamzee’s, that same shark grin in place.

“what’s this, brother? you ain’t motherfucking"" FRIGHTENED"", are ya?” Gamzee’s eyes widened, and he tried to scramble away. The fake – had to be a fake, right? He wasn’t like this – kneeling by his legs hooked an arm around his knees. “SETTLE THE ”“fuck down right now”“ YOU MOTHERFUCKING MORON.”  
  
The quiet doppelganger leaned closer in and- Gamzee’s mind was screaming at him to push this motherfucker off RIGHT NOW, and oh MOTHERFUCK no that was his TONGUE and- Gamzee gave a mighty shove, throwing the fake off in one huge burst of energy.  
  
The lower-volume but no less terrifying opposite was still grinning, although the gray teeth were tinted now with violet. Gamzee dully realized his own mouth was also bleeding, but that was not really a priority right now.  
  
The clownish troll lifted one leg, trying to run, but he’d forgotten the louder self, who easily tripped him. Gamzee was ashamed to realize he let out a sob as the other half of this nightmare situation swarmed over on top of him.  
  
Now not only was he on the floor, but one fake was on his face, and another had just- oh god, where were his pants?! The two worked in swift unison to similarly remove his shirt, and his protests were either ignored or swatted away.  
  
Gamzee was openly crying now, though he didn’t fully realize it, greasepaint smearing with sweat, blood, tears, and the hearty swipes of his selfs. “No- please- MOTHERFUCK-” He arches his back to what little extent he can as the quiet one grips his horns with clawed fingers.

The first copy is roughly running his hands over the lanky troll’s pecs, and GOD his palms are ROUGH and it rides the line between agony and pleasure. Gamzee whimpers as the ministrations move lower, brushing the top of his bulge; he cries out as the loud double’s claws nick him, and somehow he rises to full mast. The disturbing counterparts laugh in unison, making the lazy clown feel physically ill.  
  
“ENJOYING IT AFTER ALL, AIN’T YA MOTHERFUCKER!” This version goes back into the crazed laugh, sliding his rough, acid-eaten hands along Gamzee’s tender length. Gamzee gasps and whimpers as the cruel fake twitches a thumb across the tip, then squeals as he “carelessly” slices with his claw. More violet slowly drips down, only to be lapped up by the violent double.  
  
“looks like the motherfucker is, keep it the fuck up. i’ll give you a motherfucking hand, brother” Quiet fake gave Gamzee an upside-down kiss, pumping his hands along the squirming troll’s horns. Gamzee tries to cry out, but the bloody, salty mouth engulfs the sound easily.  
  
Loud laughs. “YOU THINK THERE’S ANY OF YER MOTHERFUCKIN FRIENDS AROUND TO HEAR YOU, MOTHERFUCKER?! THINK AGAIN!” Gamzee twitches as the hands on his meat suddenly become slick, and there’s colors dripping onto his bare chest from above. Quiet pulls away long enough for him to mutter a strangled “N-no…”  
  
Indigo, purple, blue, green, jade, teal, aqua, orange, yellow – oh god no, nononononono not red please not red….  
  
The stink of carnage hits him like a fist, in tandem with Loud’s sudden punch to the gut. Gamzee curls up, whimpering, as blood continues to drip and smear onto him, aided and added by the hands of his cruel counterparts….  
  
“NononononononononoNoNonONONOnoNoNOnONOnonnoonoNonoOno” he doesn’t pause for breath, eyes wider than they’ve ever been, as the sudden impact of the reality around him hits him hard. His counterparts finally leave off striking him, just standing back, hands on hips, observing his meltdown.

“….nonono- NO.” Gamzee stands.

Clubs appear in his hands, and a scowl on his once-mellow face. “You motherfuckers are NOT getting away with this motherfucking tragedy, you fucking hear me?!” He rushes the nearest, Loud, one club swinging for his shoulder. Fucker doesn’t even move, just stands there grinning as Quiet snatches him from the air and pins him to the floor. Quiet laughs.

Gamzee’s makeup is all but gone, his face a slaughterhouse of color. He clamps his eyes shut and breaks down, clubs dropping from numb fingers. “…why…” he sobs, unable to form words any longer.

Quiet straddles his hips, one hand grabbing a horn and another his throat, forcing his jaw open from an awkward position. Gamzee regards this dully until Loud’s pants hit the floor.

He looks up with fearful eyes. “No….”

 

\----------

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, held down and face-fucked or pinned and ass-fucked or any number of combinations. He hates the way they touch them, he hates their damn laughs, and most of all he hates how fucking hard it’s made him.

He lays with his cheek pressed to the ground, chafed from the motions. Quiet pauses and leans over, checking him.

“motherfucker’s stopped responding again”

Loud flicks him between the eyes, eliciting no more than a groan. The copy looks back up at his twin. “MOTHERFUCKER THINKS HE’S FUCKING DONE.”

Quiet abruptly drops his hold, letting the abused clown slam back into the cold floor. Gamzee rolled an eye vaguely up at him. “then he fucking is,” deadpanned Quiet.

Gamzee was still trying to puzzle this out as both fakes redressed and walked in front of him. He stared at them. “What…?”

Quiet grinned. “never motherfucking wondered why ya never had a”“ FUCKING KISMESIS, OR MATESPRIT, OR EVEN A REAL FUCKING MOIRAIL?”

Quiet leaned in close. “it’s cause this is what motherfucking happens when ever you try to think of fucking, remember?”

Gamzee gaped at the two. Information was rushing back into his head, memories he'd tried to suppress. “No-yes-I-” he stood. They grinned at him. “I aM tHe MOtHeRfUCKiNg DaRK mEsSIAH. i aM BOtH Him.” He focused his gaze on the two. “YoU aRe Me.”

Quiet shrugged. “seems like the motherfucker finally hit the fucking nail on the motherfucking head.” Loud grinned. “BOUT MOTHERFUCKING TIME.”

Gamzee looked at his bloodied hands, then ran a finger through his immaculate makeup. “oH YEaH. I fORgOt.”

“you associate”“ MOTHERFUCKING CARNAGE WITH”“plain ol fucking”

Gamzee sighed. “No mORe JaCkInG OfF wHen Low On mOTHerFuCkinG pIE.”

Honk.


	2. It's not just you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://homesmut.livejournal.com/5183.html?thread=2409791#t2409791  
> "Grand Highblood/High!Gamzee
> 
> non-con in a dream bubble"

The stoned troll wished he had listened more closely to his bEsT FriEnD. He wished he hadn’t gone to sleep. He wished he had been lucky enough to get the horrorterrors from last time – those guys were pretty chill, once you got past the whole “abomination of nature” thing.  
  
And they sure as hell were better than what he was going through now.  
  
“f-FuCk-” the Capricorn winces as a meaty hand slaps his head down again.  
  
“THAT’S NO WAY for a motherfucking highblood TO SPEAK, BRAT.” Gamzee doesn’t say anything, indigo tears burning his eyes as they spatter the bottom of the dream bubble, one he wished he’d never had the misfortune of entering.  
  
The rough hand, tacky with the boy’s blood, returned to his hips, holding the weeping, spent troll in place as its owner erratically thrust into him. Each new thrust – some slow and shallow, others rapid and deep – drove thoughts of miracles from the clown’s mind, drove the thought of **_anything_**  pleasant or good out of his mind, as they drove into him.  
  
Gamzee whimpered at the unpredictable thrusts sped up, a sure sign his ancestor was ready to fill him again. The harsh voice, panting out expletives and insults, became more breathless with each passing moment. Gamzee tried to brace himself for the onslaught, but each one was different from the last, and his knees gave way as thick liquid spilled from his torn nook to the unfamiliar floor. The boy self-consciously licked at the same fluid on his lips, mixed with both their blood – the Subjuggulator, the _real_  one, had not taken kindly to the dopey boy’s bite.  
  
Finally, _finally_ , he shoved the young troll away, letting his body fall unchecked to the ground. The Grand Highblood laughed as Gamzee just lay there, barely enough power in the corroded brain to curl up into a sobbing little ball.  
  
“THAT WASN’T too motherfucking bad, boy. next FUCKING TIME I’M IN TOWN, i’ll look you up.” Gamzee woke with that laughter still ringing in his ears.

 

  
He resolved to never sleep again.


	3. Do Daddy Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://homesmut.livejournal.com/5183.html?thread=2585151#t2585151
> 
> http://superfiller.livejournal.com/5932.html
> 
> "Grand Highblood/Crazy!Gamzee  
> no non-con, crazy!gamz is very eager to please his ancestor.
> 
> please, you guys, i need this like burning."

The Highblood realized something was off from the start.  
  
For one, he was the one entering the bubble, not the kid.  
  
The kid was already there, facing the throne with an unreadable expression. One lazy eye rolled in the Subjuggulator’s direction. And the brat GRINNED.  
  
The massive adult emulated him as he stepped toward the calm child. From here he could see the clubs, held loosely and lightly, and spattered with a rainbow. The young troll turned to face him more fully a moment, smiling; then he dropped the clubs with abandon, preferring to cross his arms and pull up his shirt in one lazy stroke.  
  
The Grand Highblood stopped short, confused but not complaining. The kid lowered his arms slowly, letting his ancestor get a nice, long look at his lean form. It was only when the kid turned that the Highblood realized another similarity between them.  
  
The kid wasn’t alone.  
  
Two grinning clowns faced him, one shirted and one bare-chested. A third, whimpering, cowering, and **_familiar_** , curled up in the corner, trying not to draw attention. A small pool of indigo blood and bound wrists indicated his fellows’ opinions of him.  
  
The Highbloods stepped up to the two smiling trolls, even larger, lazy grins in place. “WELL THEN, ISN’T THIS A”“ motherfucking surprise. you brats finally""SEE THE MOTHERFUCKING LIGHT?"  
  
The topless troll chuckled. He opened his mouth to speak, but he did not speak alone. “hell fucking yes, we have." "AN' IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLE, I TELL YOU.”“ all these motherfuckers gonna kneel."

The Loud one crossed his arms over bare skin as they spoke, and afterwards, reached for his twin. The adult troll(s) watched hungrily as they closed their eyes, moving hands and lips purely by memory - Fingers tracing across abs and stomach and teeth digging into collarbones.  
  
Loud moaned slightly as the digits dug in, opening one eye and grinning cunningly as he heard the adults growl. His own hands slipped down to his waistband, teasing it open. The loose pants pooled around his ankles, and then the troll’s thumbs stopped maddeningly under the band of his boxers. He locked eyes with his adult version. “WANNA SEE?”  
  
The Highblood merely nodded with a wide toothy grin - They were basically the same person, after all. Asking was just a formality.  
The brat chuckled. “HERE GOES,” he said, equal parts lustful, playful, and…adoring? The boxers, pulled free of his bony hips, easily slipped down toned legs. Meanwhile, his own youthful counterpart hadn’t ceased his explorations; rather, his hand strayed even lower, brushing abdominal muscles before he crouched and his fingers met the already-hard bugle.  
  
The Louder Highblood gripped his personal descendant by a horn, yanking the boy unceremoniously to his knees in front of him. As the Subjuggulator fumbled with his codpiece, his Quieter version slipped over to the still-clothed and obviously hard troll. One hand found its way into Quiet’s hair, pulling the lanky teen up for a kiss.  
  
Loud finally helped his ancestor pry open the marked article, letting his huge, hard bulge burst free. With no encouragement, the boy gladly took it into his mouth, being careful of his fangs. His ancestor moaned and grasped the smaller troll’s hair with both hands, eyes shut in ecstasy.  
  
The Quieter Highblood slipped a hand up his own partner’s shirt, grinning toothily as the younger Capricorn moaned. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside the boy’s mouth, hand continuing its explorations. Quiet’s knees buckled as his ancestor’s questing fingers found his painfully hard bulge, claws artfully sliding along the short sheath.  
  
Gamzee, trussed up in the corner, tried very hard to ignore everything going on around him. He jumped as something heavy slid into his shoulder, and risked opening his eyes.  
  
An indigo-splattered face met his gaze, a dopey, apologetic smile on it. “HeY KiD, yOu aLl mOtHeRfUcKiNg rIgHt tHeRe?”  
  
Gamzee stared mutely at his own version of an ancestor for a moment, before burying his face in the older troll’s bloodied chest. Bound hands grasped at stained cloth as he tried to subdue his sobs. Larger hands, bound in leather and metal, looped over his neck and pulled him into a comforting embrace.  
  
Neither were particularly safe, but for the moment both halves of their psychoses were busy. The Louder Highblood was fulfilling his title with moans that increased in volume the longer his descendant sucked on his bulge. The kneeling, naked teen seemed ecstatic at the encouraging response and was doing his damnedest to intensify it.  
  
Quiet was naked now, clothes slowly, teasingly removed by his ancestor as the Subjuggulator licked his collarbone and rubbed his hand appreciatively over the lithe, toned body. The younger troll moans softly as his ancestor languidly stroked the base of his bulge, larger than most trolls his age but much smaller in comparison to the adult. The boy gently kissed the Highblood’s face as the older troll stripped from the waist, pressing his own massive bulge against his descendant’s.  
  
Loud growled and groaned around the shaft in his mouth as large, rough hands rapidly stroked his horns, a reward for good behavior. The boy ran his gray tongue around the bulge as best he could, slipping it enticingly under the edge of the cope sheath and eliciting a sharp, appreciative grunt from the troll above him.  
  
Quiet sat on his ancestor’s lap, the older troll now nude and seated on the huge, black throne. He pulled the boy’s back against his chest, enjoyed the soft mewling sounds the teen made as his large fingertips tested his sheath. Pulling away digits coated in pale indigo fluid, the elder grinned in satisfaction and thrust into the opening. Quiet broke his name with a sharp hissing sound, rolling his hips in order to try and take more of the huge shaft inside.  
  
The Louder Highblood gripped his descendant’s head and all but roared, thrusting hard into the boy’s mouth. Loud saw spots flash before his eyes at the impact but held on, wrapping both arms around his ancestor’s waist and drinking him dry. The adult chuckled as he pulled out, smiling at the enraptured expression on the adolescent’s face. He tousled the boy’s hair even as he went to pull down his pants. “GOOD FUCKING JOB, KID. YA DO A FUCKING ANCESTOR PROUD.”  
  
Quiet braced his hands on the Subjuggulator’s knees, trying to move in time with the slow, almost lazy, but incredibly powerful thrusts. He whined appreciatively when the Grand Highblood deign to slip a hand off his young thigh and instead grasp his aching bulge, pumping at an alternate rate. The feeling of the yellow claw carefully, almost cuttingly, flicking across the head made the troll’s eyes roll back in his head and his throat seize. His ancestor just chuckled when the boy’s claws bit into his flesh, drawing blood.  
  
Loud moaned loudly as the Highblood above him sharply thrust into his nook, doing so without warning, lube, or preparation. The pain and pleasure mingled wonderfully, his own hard length rubbing against the floor as the older troll rocked into him, rapid and deep. The blood running down his back and belly only augmented the experience.  
  
The Quieter Subjuggulator started pumping just a but faster, then stopped suddenly, biting around his partner’s horn as thick genetic material filled the sheath, instantly swelling it many times its normal size. After a moment he resumed thrusting, his hand still rubbing the tender bulge; soon the combination drove his younger self past the brink, head thrown back into his grinning ancestor’s chest as he spurted the fluid as well.  
  
The other Subjuggulator wasn’t far behind, soon digging sharp claws into his descendant’s sides as he flung his head back, snarling as he released inside the torn nook. His partner made a sound of delight as his own fluids spread across the floor under his belly. Blood and genetic fluid swirled in a puddle as the boy shakily lifted his scraped face up to look at the adult.  
  
Both adults complimented their eager partners, stroking their horns or tousling their hair. Gamzee and his own elder counterpart stiffened as their collective gazes turned to the corner. Gamzee felt his ancestor’s arms close a little tighter around him, pulling him closer, almost protectively. Before the four could approach, the edges of their vision began to run and fade, signaling an end to the dream.  


\----------------------------------------

 

Waking up at the bottom of the cliff, Gamzee grinned, teeth stained purple - He couldn’t tell if it was from the dream, the fall, or the kick, but... Hell, if he dreamed like that now, maybe he should see if Kan could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((A word on my old headcanon for male troll anatomy:  
> All male trolls have ridges and bumps on the top of their bulge, and a copulation sheath on the underside (envision a condom glued to the bottom of the bulge, the opening being opposite the tip). Lowbloods had less pronounced bumps and much longer sheaths, the reverse becoming true the further up the hemospectrum you went - except for Karkat, who has a full sheath AND highblood-level bumps happening. One bulge went into the other troll's (self-lubricating) sheath and the bumps stimulated the receiving troll. Once genetic material ejaculated into the sheath and the bulge removed, the sheath would clamp shut to retain the fluid until the receiving troll ejaculated as well.  
> Obviously there are issues with this (I never settled on a satisfactory female troll genitalia and how that would work with other females AND males) and I'm pretty vague when I write troll anatomy these days.))


	4. Place of Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://homesmut.livejournal.com/5183.html?thread=2585151#t2585151

Gamzee had tried. He really had. After everyone had essentially forgiven him (due in part to them heavily dosing him with slime, and in part to Nepeta playing dead and then giving Equius troll-CPR), he hadn’t said or done much, just curled up quietly in a corner (he couldn’t stand the sight of the hornpile after) and rested his head on his knees. He had a tendency to make his fellows twitchy when, feeling sleep impending, he’d jump up and run laps.  
  
Finally his best friend came over and gave him a nervous, abnormally quiet speech about how the horrorterrors were out there, and sleep would suck, but not sleeping might end up worse. The Capricorn could tell his leader was terrified of what might happen if he went much longer without rest; the lanky troll almost gave in. Until Karkat mentioned dream bubbles.  
  
The Cancer meant it for the best, a preferable, in his case, alternative to the horrorterrors – but almost instantly he knew he had said the wrong thing. Without the face paint (and in conjunction to the scars), it was obvious how fast the other boy’s eyes had widened – he didn’t even fire off one of his excuses before turning on his heel and dashing down the hall.  
  
  
The Capricorn reflected on how he had dug his own grave, running until exhausted down generally unnavigated segments of hall. He wasn’t exactly lost, but he didn’t have the energy to make it back to a room. He fell to his knees, leaning against a wall.  
  
Gamzee didn’t even remember closing his eyes.

 

\---------

 

The next thing the youth knew was pain, hot and sharp against the side of his face, knocking him to the floor. It dulled in a moment, but before he could recover, strong hands gripped his shirtfront and yanked him to his feet.  
  
Gamzee winced as two unfortunately familiar faces snarled at him, each seething in their own personal way. He’d been through this enough to know better than resist, much to his pissed other selves’ ire. Loud flung him vengefully against the hard wall of the bubble, snarling. Quiet slipped out his clubs and advanced on the prone troll.  
  
Gamzee didn’t even flinch when the first strike bruised his cheek, forcing him to slump down the wall. He just let himself go limp as the more subtle psychosis waled on him. Loud just folded his arms and glared, muttering threats and curses under his breath with increasing venom.  
  
Sick at his lack of reaction, Quiet kicked the Capricorn once in the ribs and then walked away, nodding at a doorway Gamzee hadn’t noticed before; his stomach turned to lead as he recognized _two_ bulky figures there.  
  
“pLeAse……nO MoRe….” He pulled thin, shaking hands over messy hair as his body twisted into a pathetic defensive form. Loud laughed as his Highblood counterpart stepped forward.

Gamzee curled up so tight it was a mOtHerFuCkIn’ mIrAcLe he hadn’t created a black hole. He whimpered pathetically as a meaty hand gripped his arm punishingly hard; he was yanked up to face-level so his homicidal originator could whisper unlovingly in his ear. “ain’t all gonna motherfuckin up and go away, kid. you’re stuck here. with _us_.” Gamzee whined and tried to become a little quivering ball of troll-flesh again, but it was a difficult task in midair.   
  
The Quieter Subjuggulator laughed mirthlessly and beckoned his other half over – both took hold of the trembling boy, as his own counterparts sauntered up. In no time at all they’d stripped him bare, leaving him shaking in the middle of their sadistic huddle for a moment.

Then large hands grasped his limbs, pulling him into a straighter, supine position, ignoring his mewls. His personal psychoses ran their hands down the lean troll’s torso, one set maddeningly smooth and arousing, the other painfully raking and tearing. Gamzee whined, in fear and pleasure alike, then clamped his eyes shut in shame at the thought of _enjoying_ this, in any small way. The other trolls laughed as indigo tears flooded his cheeks, the bizarre mixture of tones echoing nightmarishly.  
  
Gamzee whimpered as the group came to a silent conclusion – the Quieter ancestor knelt on his arms, grabbing his jaw with bruising force. Knowing what was expected of him, the Capricorn opened his mouth, eyes still shut, before the male could grab his horn and simply force him to gape. That hand instead stroked his hair, making the boy shudder with still more shame, as the adult filled him. “good motherfucker. know what yer fuckin’ place is.”  
  
Gamzee nodded as best he could, careful of his fangs – maybe if he complied this would be done with sooner rather than later. A strange feeling on his own bulge had the youth slitting his eyes, trying to look around the flesh in his mouth to see what was happening at his crotch.

As soon as he did, his eyes slammed shut again, the Capricorn just barely resisting the urge to try and twist his head, squirm his body. One of his counterparts – he could barely tell them from each other when they weren’t talking or acting out – had pressed into the other’s cope sheath and- Gamzee’s hips lifted and he screamed around the bulge in his mouth as the two of them roughly double-stuffed his copulation sheath. He wept as they laughed again at his pain; Loud was obviously in control, because they began to thrust the unprepared opening almost immediately.  
  
He didn’t have time to reflect on this; stars filled his eyes as his Louder ancestor found some way to work around the cooperating trolls and slam harshly into his nook. It wasn’t the first time any of these had happened, except maybe the two-timing of his sheath, but never had any happened all at once.  
  
Gamzee’s eyes were blood-shot and flushed violet with tears as the three entries moved off-beat, unable to prepare himself for more than one motion at a time. He couldn’t hold back the grunts or moans as they shoved into him, seeming to fight to all be as far inside him as possible at once. The troll stopped trying to resist or even abet them, just forcing himself to relax as much as was actually feasible in this situation and let them finish.  
  
Please, God, let them be done with him after that.

 

\--------

 

After what felt like small centuries, the last of the hard, rough bulges released inside the exhausted boy, leaving him in a boneless heap on the floor. Their jeers and unkind laughter echoed meaninglessly in his head as the sickeningly thick fluid pooled around him.  
  
His indigo-tinted eyes snapped open in horror when a rough hand grabbed his bruised jaw. Gamzee roved one eye over the offender, looked to be his Loud self. Bastard grinned. “WHAT, MOTHER FUCKER? YOU THINK WE’RE FUCKING DONE AFTER ONE GO?”  
  
Apparently not. Apparently each of them had what felt like at least three goes apiece. And when they tossed him aside, it was out of boredom; the younger trolls started limbering up and moving in on their ancestors as Gamzee curled up in the shadow of the throne.  
  
He nearly screamed when someone grabbed his arm. Until he realized they were holding him gently. Shaking, shuddering, so, so scared, Gamzee Makara risked a peek.  
  
A large, somewhat familiar bulk met his eyes. If the boy was capable of being relieved, he would have been. As it was, he struggled to snuggle closer to his own bashed ancestor. The older troll smiled with difficulty, cupping the child’s hands in his own bound set. He pressed his forehead to Gamzee’s, and the Capricorn struggled to hear his words.  
  
 _“tHinK oF a SaFe PlAcE. sOmEwHeRe fAr FrOm hErE…SoMeWhErE ThEy Can’T mOtHeRfUcKiN’ rEacH…”_

Gamzee squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating as best he could. He heard some kind of commotion from the others, but it swiftly faded away. The ground subtly shifted under him.  
  
A wry chuckle. “YoU CaN fUcKiNg oPeN YoUr EyEs nOw, kId…”  
  
The younger troll let his eyelids flutter, taking in the scene around him. The surroundings were different, not the stark, macabrely painted throne room but an area that was almost familiar to him.  
  
The elder picked up on it before him, letting his hands, now unbound, fall away from the boy’s. “LoOkS lIkE A mIx oF bOtH OuR ReSpItEbLoCkS.”  
  
Gamzee nodded. The basic room looked like his place, but a few elements were different; a darker color, a slightly more luxurious and sturdy touch on everything. A thought gripped him. He turned back to his ancestor. “CaN….cAn ThEy…?”  
  
The Highblood shook his head, making the younger troll relax. “nAh, tHaT’s tHe WhOlE mOtHeRfUcKiNg pOiNt oF tHiS pLaCe. We’Re sAfE.” To Gamzee’s surprise, the adult looked abashed. He ran one large hand down the back of his own neck. “….sOrRy I DiDn’T fUcKiNg gEt yA oUt oF tHeRe sOonEr, KiD. biT TiEd uP, bUt tHat’S nO mOtHeRfUcKiNg ExCusE.”  
  
Gamzee shook his head. “I'm JuSt rEaL MoThErFuCkInG GlAd yOu gOt mE OuT At aLl.” He must have made some odd sound, because the Highblood turned around in a hurry.  
  
The bigger troll’s hurt, apologetic expression sharpened when he locked eyes on Gamzee’s face, and he swiftly strode forward, stopping when the boy flinched. His face softened, and he finished his approach much more slowly.  
  
He placed a gentle hand on the younger troll’s shoulder, expression sad and soft. “i...I cAn’T MoThErFuCkInG RiGhTlY sAy, tHaT, ThAt mOtHeRfuCkiNg EveRyThInG’s gOnNa bE aLl mOtHeRfUcKinG oKay, bUt...”  
  
He slowly pulled the quavering child into a shaky embrace. “I’M MoThErFuCkInG HeRe fOr yOu, AiN’T GoNnA EvEr fUcKiN HuRt yA LiKe tHoSe mOtHeRfUcKeRs. ThIs pLaCe, It’s aLl mOtHeRfUcKiNg sAfE, nO MoThErFuCkEr gEtS In iF He cAn’t fEeL MoThErFuCkInG CoMpAsSiOn. FiGuReD It bE FuCkInG HaRdEsT ThInG FoR ThOsE MoThErFuCkErS To gEt pAsT,” he added, seeing the confused look on his descendant’s face, as they pulled apart.  
  
Gamzee nodded, indigo relief unconsciously dripping from his eyes. He stood free of his ancestor a moment, still linked by the large hands on his shoulders, before stepping back in and hugging him again.  
  
“sO ….fUcKiNg SoRrY...HuRt....aLl mY mOtHeRfUCkInG FrIeNdS....ToO FucKiNg WeAk...” Gamzee gasped slightly as arms tightened around his body, slowly relaxing. He shook still, unused to any kind of....well, _tender_ physical contact.

Gamzee buried his face in his ancestor's neck, not quite sure what to do next. The other troll was so much bigger than him - not as much as the other Highbloods, though. Maybe he just had less presence.  
  
The smaller Capricorn deepened the embrace slightly, and when the other did not pull away, he tilted his head back, smearing bare remains of paint on the adult's throat.  
  
"iS It, uM...." he shuddered, hesitating. "i, I fUcKiNg JuSt, Uh...."   
  
Not knowing what else to do, he planted a tiny kiss on the big troll's collarbone.  
  
Gamzee stood still a moment, relieved when the Subjuggulator didn't stiffen. A large hand ran up the younger troll's back as the adult lowered his head and murmured, "aNd JuSt WhAt ThE mOtHeRfUcK aRe YoU TrYiNg HeRe, KiD?"

Gamzee scraped together some courage.  
  
"dOeS iT AlwAyS HaVe To MOtHeRfUcKiNg HuRt?"  
  
The adult DOES stiffen now, relaxing a moment later and carefully stroking the wiggler's hair. "oH, KiD...." he whispers, voice sad and broken. "yOu dOn't MoThErFuCkInG eVeN KnOw...."  
  
There's silence for a moment.  
  
"So..." a gulp, "sO MoThErFuCkInG ShOw Me."

The Highblood is quiet for a moment, hand still running reassuringly down the smaller troll’s back. He finally sighs, and gently presses his lips to Gamzee’s.  
  
The adolescent goes completely stiff under him, as memory fights with sensation. When he does loosen up, it’s not by much.  
  
The adult has the advantage of actual sexual encounters, though, and wields the experience better than Gamzee expects. He’s careful of the smaller troll’s reactions, staying out of blind spots and moving slowly, gently. Lovingly.  
  
Large, warm lips touch his shoulder, and Gamzee sighs, leaning into the touch. It’s infinitely better than the forced and confusing arousal of his interactions with the messiahs - when he asks the adult to stop, he stops. The younger Capricorn exercises the option several times before he finally has the idea set in his mind and lets the Highblood move.

The adult is patient as can be, making the wiggler feel guilty, but he waves it away when Gamzee says as much. “dOn’T mOtHeRfUcKInG WoRrY AbOuT Me, KiDdO,” he murmurs into the child’s thin ribcage as he moves down the lithe body, “ThIs iS fOr YoU, AiN’t It?”  
  
Seeing the look on Gamzee’s face, he sighs sadly, but there’s a grin on his lips. He brushes the troll’s jawline with his thumb. “YoU aRe MoThErFuCKiNg ALlOwEd To bE SeLfIsH,” he iterates. Only when a slim curve touches the smaller troll’s lips does the Subjugglator resume his task.  
  
When warm and calloused fingers rub a join on Gamzee’s ribs, he lets loose a noise he didn’t even know he could make. The Highblood grinned and repeated the motion, then teasingly swirled his fingers _just_ around the spot. A high whine left the wiggler’s throat and he gripped the adult’s shoulder with one hand, a massive, spindly horn with the other.  
  
The bigger Capricorn chuckled warmly and kissed the sweet spot he had discovered, making Gamzee cry out, before moving lower. When his hand brushed the line of the troll’s hip, Gamzee froze; the Highblood went stock-still until a smaller hand covered his, pushing down lightly to indicate permission.

Gamzee noticed, suddenly, that the more pleasant the adult’s ministrations became, the less pain he felt. When the discovery was voiced, the other troll gave that sad laugh again. “WeLl, PlAcE iS In OuR MoThErFuCkInG MiNdS, SeE? HoW YoU FeEl aFfEcTs tHe sTaTe.” He sighed. “If I GoT mY mOtHeRfUcKiNg pRaCtIcE On, i cOuLd pRoBAbLy BeAT tHoSe fUcKeRs oUt.” A line of concentration creases his - repainted, Gamzee noticed - forehead before he smiled and rubbed the juggalo’s thigh. “BuT ThAt’S MotHeRfUcKiNg lAtEr."

 

 

Gamzee Makara has undergone a serious crisis of faith, amongst numerous other psychological pressures and traumas. He is not sure if he still believes in miracles, but the warm mouth of his ancestor gently grazing his thigh as one large hand pumps his hard length is definitely helping him reconsider.  
  
He moaned under the adult’s touches, body pliant and molten, paint and flesh restored as his mood skyrocketed. The older troll chuckled, sending pleasing vibrations up his descendant’s leg. He pulled back and lapped at the gray skin and thick muscle, and Gamzee _whimpered_ , writhing at the sensation.  
  
The adult troll, much more relaxed that when the two had entered the private bubble, smiled warmly at the juggalo. They’d been moving slow, very slow, both still scarred - wounded - from previous encounters, but the calming atmosphere of the bubble and the caring ministrations of both Capricorns has certainly helped.  
  
Gamzee gasps, toes curling and body straightening as genetic material spouts out from under the adult’s hand. Soon he’s covered with the warm fluid, eyes drooping as endorphins flood his body.

When the younger troll hears his ancestor shift, however, he manages to sit up, looking at him. The Highblood quirks a brow at him.  
  
“i....” Gamzee licks his lips. “I WaNna....FoR yOu, yOu KnOW?”  
  
A slim smile spread on the Subjugglators cheeks. “Up To YoU, KiD,” he murmurs. “lIkE i mOtHeRfUcKiNg sAiD, YoU’Re aLlOwEd To bE LAzY....” His sentence ends with a gasp as the younger Capricorn leans over resolutely and grasps at his crotch.  
  
Immediately Gamzee freezes, eyes gravitating up to the adult’s face. A look like pain finally passes, the bigger troll sighing and slowly opening his eyes. “i...I aM sO MoThErFuCkInG SoRrY, I dIdN’T _ThInK_ -”

A large hand brushes through the wiggler’s hair. “It’S OkAy. jUsT TakE It eAsY.” Gamzee’s head bobs up and down almost comically. He loosens his grip and gently strokes over the codpiece for a few moments. His touches widen, stroking stomach and leg, before he very, very slowly slips his fingers along the edge of the codpiece, looking the adult in the eyes as he does so.  
  
Seeing relative calm, the Capricorn gathers his courage and carefully opens the piece, slipping it off. He repositions himself between the Highblood’s legs, warm breath and warm fingers running gently over the large bulge in front of him.  
  
He almost goes to put his mouth around it before remembering that he doesn’t have to. Gamzee glances at his ancestor’s face again before pulling forward, now sitting with his knees touching the Subjugglator’s thighs.  
  
A soft sigh escapes the adult’s mouth as the smaller troll adds a little pressure, begins to stroke a little more confidentally. He feels awkward, inexperience and unsatisfactory, but after a little help he soon has the adult spattering them both with color, something like a roar leaving him.  
  
Gamzee flinches a little at the sound, but a gentle hand in his hair easily calms him. The larger troll chuckles a bit at his dripping face. “C’mOn, lEt’s gEt cLeAnEd ThE mOtHeRfUcK uP.”

Gamzee squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating as best he could. He heard some kind of commotion from the others, but it swiftly faded away. The ground subtly shifted under him.  
  
A wry chuckle. “YoU CaN fUcKiNg oPeN YoUr EyEs nOw, kId…”  
  
The younger troll let his eyelids flutter, taking in the scene around him. The surroundings were different, not the stark, macabrely painted throne room but an area that was almost familiar to him.  
  
The elder picked up on it before him, letting his hands, now unbound, fall away from the boy’s. “LoOkS lIkE A mIx oF bOtH OuR ReSpItEbLoCkS.”  
  
Gamzee nodded. The basic room looked like his place, but a few elements were different; a darker color, a slightly more luxurious and sturdy touch on everything. A thought gripped him. He turned back to his ancestor. “CaN….cAn ThEy…?”  
  
The Highblood shook his head, making the younger troll relax. “nAh, tHaT’s tHe WhOlE mOtHeRfUcKiNg pOiNt oF tHiS pLaCe. We’Re sAfE.” To Gamzee’s surprise, the adult looked abashed. He ran one large hand down the back of his own neck. “….sOrRy I DiDn’T fUcKiNg gEt yA oUt oF tHeRe sOonEr, KiD. biT TiEd uP, bUt tHat’S nO mOtHeRfUcKiNg ExCusE.”  
  
Gamzee shook his head. “I'M JuSt rEaL MoThErFuCkInG GlAd yOu gOt mE OuT At aLl.” He must have made some odd sound, because the Highblood turned around in a hurry.  
  
The bigger troll’s hurt, apologetic expression sharpened when he locked eyes on Gamzee’s face, and he swiftly strode forward, stopping when the boy flinched. His face softened, and he finished his approach much more slowly.  
  
He placed a gentle hand on the younger troll’s shoulder, expression sad and soft. “i...I cAn’T MoThErFuCkInG RiGhTlY sAy, tHaT, ThAt mOtHeRfuCkiNg EveRyThInG’s gOnNa bE aLl mOtHeRfUcKinG oKay, bUt...”  
  
He slowly pulled the quavering child into a shaky embrace. “I’M MoThErFuCkInG HeRe fOr yOu, AiN’T GoNnA EvEr fUcKiN HuRt yA LiKe tHoSe mOtHeRfUcKeRs. ThIs pLaCe, It’s aLl mOtHeRfUcKiNg sAfE, nO MoThErFuCkEr gEtS In iF He cAn’t fEeL MoThErFuCkInG CoMpAsSiOn. FiGuReD It bE FuCkInG HaRdEsT ThInG FoR ThOsE MoThErFuCkErS To gEt pAsT,” he added, seeing the confused look on his descendant’s face, as they pulled apart.  
  
Gamzee nodded, indigo relief unconsciously dripping from his eyes. He stood free of his ancestor a moment, still linked by the large hands on his shoulders, before stepping back in and hugging him again.  
  
“sO ….fUcKiNg SoRrY...HuRt....aLl mY mOtHeRfUCkInG FrIeNdS....ToO FucKiNg WeAk...” Gamzee gasped slightly as arms tightened around his body, slowly relaxing. He shook still, unused to any kind of....well, _tender_ physical contact.


End file.
